The Ace of Hearts
by Mestizaa
Summary: In which Mrs Hughes confides in Mrs Patmore. Ft. Asexual!Mrs Hughes, and Chelsie in the beginnings of a queerplatonic relationship.


Because I need more queer characters and queer relationships in my life. This is what I have for now, but I do hope to revisit this little world in the future.

I should probably warn you that there are some reference to S6 spoilers scattered in this, but honestly, you probably won't notice unless you've already been spoiled. As much as I would enjoy something like this happening, it's very unlikely that it will. So for those of you who want to remain spoiler-free, I think you're probably safe. It's your call.

* * *

 **The Ace of Hearts**

 **Someone Old, Someone Blue**

"What about this one?" Mrs Patmore flips through her recipe book with growing excitement. "I usually modify the recipe because I find it a bit too sweet, though in the end it's up to you."

Mrs Hughes sighs and wrings her hands in her lap. Mrs Patmore has been rattling on and on about cake options, but she can't bring herself to pay attention. She can't get excited when there is this knot in her stomach that tightens every time she thinks about marrying Mr Carson.

As the wedding day approaches, every interaction she had anybody seems to revolve around the wedding and _everything that still had to be done_. Mr Caron wants to review the guest list, Her Ladyship wants to discuss floral arrangements, Anna wants to know how she wanted to wear her hair, Mrs Patmore needs to settle the menu. Everybody wants to know something and it is all just _too much_.

She had been about to escape to her bedroom to get away from the constant pestering and collect herself, when Mrs Patmore had appeared with a giant book in hand. According to her, it was a golden opportunity to discuss wedding cakes without being interrupted.

"Mrs Hughes?" she now probed and Mrs Hughes is suddenly aware that she was waiting for answer to a question she didn't hear.

"I'm sorry, Mrs Patmore," she shakes her head to try to gather her thoughts. "I drifted."

Mrs Patmore furrows her brow. "You don't seem like a bride on the brink of her wedding day."

"It's been a long time since I've been on the brink of anything," she pauses and thinks for a moment. "Except possibly the grave."

"You're deflecting, Mrs Hughes," her friend points out gently. "You know you''re going to have to make a decision eventually.."

"Oh please don't remind me," the housekeeper laughs bitterly. "Everybody is just _waiting_ for me to make a decision."

Mrs Patmore closes her book and places it on the floor next to her chair. Bracing herself for the inevitable "Are you alright" question and the lie that she would tell in response, Mrs Hughes is thrown off guard when Mrs Patmore asks something else instead.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

She curses herself when tears started forming in the corner of her eyes because she does. She really really does.

* * *

 **Sitting in a Tree, Backwards**

Elsie Hughes was first taught about the way of the world when she was seven years old and news that her schoolteacher was with child had spread through the village.

"But mama, I don't understand. How can she be having a baby if she is unmarried?"

"Elsie, you don't have to be married to have a baby."

"But you said that when two grown-ups love each other they get married and then have a baby."

"Well, you see Elsie, sometimes things don't happen in order."

"Why not?"

"Um well sometimes grown-ups are just so excited to make a baby that they skip over the other steps."

"Is it fun? Is that why they do it?"

Her mother had never answered her question. Instead she sputtered and shooed her away and told her that they would continue this conversation when she was older.

When she was a few years older, seemingly all the other girls in the village were all mooning over the butcher's son - a fact he knew very well. They were all so willing to give him their hearts and he would return them broken.

She didn't understand the appeal.

When she expressed this sentiment to her mother, she laughed and said, "One day you'll meet someone and you'll understand."

That was nearly 45 years ago, and she still doesn't understand.

The same day she had sent Ethel packing, she accepted the fact that she probably never would.

* * *

 **There goes the bride**

"I can't marry him," Mrs Hughes finally blurts out. Ashamed, she looks down at her hands and waits for the onslaught of accusations of cold feet to commence.

"I can't be hearing this right," Mrs Patmore blinks as she processes this information. "Can I ask why not?"

Mrs Hughes bites her lip, tries to keep herself from falling apart.

"I don't love him the way that he loves me," she admits softly. "I don't think that I _can_."

"I'm not following," Mrs Patmore blinks again. "Then why did you accept his proposal?"

"He's my best friend," she says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "I can't imagine my life without him."

"I'm confused," Mrs Patmore frowns. It seems to me that you _do_ love him."

"I'm not saying that I don't. I just don't love Mr Carson - or anybody for that matter - in _that_ way."

"I don't-"

"Sex, Mrs Patmore," she snaps. "I'm talking about sex."

There is a pause while her words sink in.

"...Oh."

* * *

 **I'm half crazy, all for the love of you**

"Mr Carson? Do you have a minute?"

The butler looks up from his ledgers to find the cook at his pantry door. "Of course, Mrs Patmore, do come in."

"May I?" she points to the door and he nods.

He watches her warily as she very carefully sits in the chair across from him. There's something about her that is… off. Perhaps it's the way her eyes keep shifting and her hands that won't stop moving.

"You're making me nervous," he states bluntly when she readjusts in her seat for the fourth time. "What's this about?"

She laughs awkwardly. "I'm sorry. I just… I don't know where to start."

He thinks about cracking a sarcastic remark, but her uncertainty prevents him from doing so. It doesn't seem appropriate. So he waits for her to be ready.

"It's about Mrs Hughes."

His heart lurches at her words. "Is she alright? It's not anything _reoccuring_ is it?"

"What?" she frowns before comprehension dawns. "Oh, no! Nothing like that!" she shakes her head fiercely and Carson visibly relaxes in his chair, a murmurs something along the lines of _oh thank God_.

Mrs Patmore hesitates. "She's going to kill me if she finds out I told you."

"What exactly _is_ it that you're telling me, Mrs Patmore?"

"How do I put this?" she pauses and then spits it out in one breath. "You two need to have a conversation about your expectations of what's to happen after the wedding."

Carson felt his eyebrows climb and his ears turn red with each word that came from her lips. Now that she had got it out, more words came spilling out.

"She's a mess, you see. She's worried that she won't be a good wife, that she's ruining the sanctity of marriage but it's not her fault. Really it's not. She _does_ love you, she loves you so very much and you're her best friend and that's why she accepted your proposal. But she doesn't know what comes after and she's afraid she'll disappoint you or that you'll change your mind if she tells you and oh dear I've said too much..." She trails off.

"Please say something," she begs.

None of it made any sense. The one thing he understood from Mrs Patmore's tirade was that-

"-she doesn't want to get married."

"No!" Mrs Patmore's protest made him jump in his seat. "That's not it at all!"

"Then I don't understand."

She sighs. "You love Mrs Hughes, correct?" he nods. "You'll do anything to make her happy?"

"Of course."

"Promise me you'll talk to her?"

"I promise."

* * *

 **There was an old lady who swallowed her pride**

 _Talk to him._

When Mrs Patmore had said it, it had seemed so easy, yet impossible at the same time.

 _I'll try_ she replied when she meant _I don't think I can_.

Mrs Hughes knows she has to be honest with him. It would do neither of them any good to enter into a marriage with her story half hidden. She had tried to tell him before, she really had, but it all got caught in a lump in her throat.

Much to her surprise, Mr Carson is the one to bring it up. He catches her as she is _about_ to turn the lock on her sitting room door.

"A word, Mrs Hughes?" he asks.

"Now?" It's late. she's tired and she was really looking forward to the comforts of her bed. "Can it not wait until the tomorrow?"

He shakes his head vehemently.

She sighs. "Very well." Opening the door, she lets him.

As he crosses the threshold, he hesitates for a moment and she notices the crack in his confidence. Annoyance turns into worry as alarm bells start ringing in her head.

"Mr Carson?" she asks gently, taking a step forward towards him. "What is so important that you had to speak to me so urgently?"

"You."

She takes a step back, doesn't quite know what to make of his blunt confession. "Me?"

"You matter a great deal to me, Mrs Hughes. I would hate to know if I've ever caused you discomfort."

"You've been talking to Mrs Patmore." She can't bring herself to be angry because he's gazing down at her with those big beautiful eyes so full of love.

"She mentioned that you may have some concerns," he admits softly. "Why didn't you tell me before?"

Her eyes mist over - she hates that she hurt him like this. Because she was embarrassed. Because she was afraid. Because she wanted to keep living this dream.

"I don't want to lose you," her voice cracks. She closes her eyes, takes a second to collect herself and gather her courage to be honest with him. "I love you, Mr Carson, I really do. But I have no desire to consummate the marriage."

She looks to him to gauge his reaction. His eyebrows have shot up. He is shocked and confused, and oh dear she's made him flustered.

"It's not you, Mr Carson. It's me," tears are streaming down her face. She's shattered into a million little pieces and there is nothing he can do to help fix her.

"I'm broken."

Without hesitation, he takes a step forward and envelops her in his arms. "You're not broken," he whispers as she sobs into his chest. "I love you as you are."

"Do you really mean that?" her voice sounds so small. She's not used to being cared for like this.

"I do." His hands run up and down her back, lazily drawing patterns along the way. "I'd never ask or expect you to do anything you're not comfortable with."

"It would be within your rights."

She expects him to protest, to promise her that he wouldn't. She doesn't expect him to pull back and lift her chin so she can look at him. He holds her face in his hands, wiping away some tears with his thumb.

"I can make promises, but I understand if you'd prefer if we called off the wedding," he says.

"Mr Carson, if I'm going to marry anybody in this world, it's going to be you."

He smiles, his own eyes shimmering now. She feels a swell of pride at the fact that she can make him so happy.

"Good," he says with a grin. "I'd rather us not change our plans. It's much more economical for us to live together."

"Yes, it is the practical thing to do," she laughs. "Oh Mr Carson, I do hope I can make you happy."

He takes her into his arms again. She could get used to this very fast.

"I have no doubt that you will, Mrs Hughes. None at all."

 _Fin._

* * *

 **A note about the title:**

I had named this before I knew what it meant, and then I couldn't think of another one. Ace of Hearts is a term used in the asexual community to refer to somebody who does not experience sexual attraction, but does experience romantic attraction. In the same vein, Ace of Spades refers to somebody who does not experience sexual nor romantic attraction. I named it what I did because I thought I was being clever with the hearts. Hearts = love and Mrs Hughes does love Mr Carson. Whether or not that is necessarily romantic in this story can be up to interpretation.

 **The section titles are plays on the following rhymes:**

-Something Old, Something New

-K-I-S-S-I-N-G (or whatever it's actually called)

-Here Comes the Bride

-Daisy, Daisy (Because it's Mr Carson, the lyrics are actually played straight ohhhhhhhhhh I'm so smart.)

-There was an old lady who swallowed a fly.


End file.
